'The bear arrived in early June. He trudged past my dumbstruck form, flopped onto the couch, and waited expectantly. Grace composed herself and offered him a drink. He took one of my beers in his surprisingly dextrous paws, drank it in one gulp and smashed the stubby on the ground. As I swept up the broken glass Grace asked if he was hungry. He didn't like honey or porridge much but ate all of our meat and most of the Vegemite. While Grace and I did the dishes silently he found the TV remote and watched Seinfeld re-runs...' (Publication abstract)